'No. That's why I shall never even consider marrying--so that I shall not have to set out my reasons.' He had never seen that look in her face before. He made an effort to put aside the trouble of it, saying almost lightly-- 'I often wonder why people can't be happy as they are!' 'They think of the future, I suppose.' 'There's no such thing as the future.' 'You can't say there's no such thing as growth. If it's only a garden, it's natural to like to see life unfolding--that's the future.' 'Yes, in spite of resolutions, you'll be trying the great experiment.' He said it wearily. 'Why should you mind so?' she asked curiously; 'you are not in love with me.' 'How do you know?' 'Because you give me such a sense of rest.' 'Thank you.' He caught himself up. 'Or perhaps I should thank my grey hair.' 'Grey hair doesn't bring the thing I mean. I've sometimes wished it did. But our friendship is an uncommonly peaceful one, don't you think?' 'Yes; I think it is,' he said. 'All the same, you know there's a touch of magic in it.' But, as though to condone the confession, 'You haven't told me why you were ruffled.' 'It's nothing. I dare say I was a little tired.' They had come out into the park. 'I hurried so to catch the train. My sister's new coachman is stupid about finding short cuts in London, and we got blocked by a procession--a horrible sort of demonstration, you know.' 'Oh, the unemployed.' 'Yes. And I got so tired of leaning out of the window and shouting directions that I left the maid and the luggage to come later. I got out of the brougham and ran through a slum, or I'd have lost my train. I nearly lost it anyway, because I saw a queer picture that made me stop.' She stopped again at the mere memory of it. 'In a second-hand shop?' He turned his pointed face to her, and the grey-green eyes wore a gleam of interest that few things could arouse in their cool depths. 'No, not in a shop.' She stopped and leaned against a tree. 'In the street. It was a middle-aged workman. When I caught sight of his back and saw his worn clothes--the coat went up in the middle, and had that despairing sag on both sides--it crossed my mind, here's another of those miserable, unemployed wastrels obstructing my way! Then he looked round and I saw--solid content in his face!' She stopped a moment. 'So he _wasn't_ one of the----'